


Thus Conscience Does Make Cowards Of Us All

by SerDinnerRoll



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 07:28:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5700028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerDinnerRoll/pseuds/SerDinnerRoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Renly were to have a twin? Where would he stand? And what would he do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thus Conscience Does Make Cowards Of Us All

284 AC

Lyonel fidgeted in his chair uncomfortably as Lord Arryn continued to write on the dry yellow parchment. They had not spoken since Lyonel arrived and that was fine for the Baratheon boy. He didn't want to talk. He wanted to be back in Storm's End. He wanted to play with Renly. He wanted a mother and father.

A particularly large sway of the boat reminded him that whatever he wanted was of little matter to what happened. Mother and father had drowned when he and Renly were one. Renly was back at Storm's End to be its new lord now that Robert was king. And he was on a boat that tossed and turned and made him sick to his stomach.

And all the while he glared at Lord Arryn.

 _This is your fault_ , he thought, _I heard you._

* * *

"This is a bad idea, Renly!" Lyonel hissed as the two snuck through the Red Keep.

His twin just rolled his eyes in his usual fashion, "If you want to go back to bed like a ninny, be my guest. But I want to know why Robert has been locked up all day."

Lyonel truly did want to go to bed. He was tired after the long ride from Storm's End. But as usual, Renly was able to rope him into a bad idea. Sighing, the youngest Baratheon tiptoed behind his twin.

They soon found their way to their brother's new chambers but were quick to halt as they saw several guards on duty outside the door.

"Seven hells," hissed Renly.

As much as he hated to see his brother angry, Lyonel was relieved that they could return to bed.

"Well," he sighed, "Might as well return to our room." As he spoke he slowly leaned against the wall. Only for a small brick to press into it. There was a small click, and all of a sudden, a door made of brick swung open.

"Whoa," Renly gasped, "A secret passage!"

Lyonel was close to objecting, but this new revelation had caught his eye. He of course read about the many secret tunnels of the Red Keep in one of Maester Cressen's books, but he had never given thought that he would ever find one. Especially by accident.

After a quick look about the corridor to ensure they weren't seen, the two boys crept into the hidden passage.

The inside of their new discovery was pitch black and very small. It had a dank smell to it and the air was rather cool. The only light was a small crevice in one of the wall's sides. And they could hear talking coming from it. Quietly, they crept up to the crack to peek.

What they saw was a rather large bedroom with beautiful furnishings all about. Three men sat at a table who both Renly and Lyonel recognized. Jon Arryn sat on the far side from them, his white hair cropped about his wrinkly head. Next to him was the just as ancient Grand Maester Pycelle who was slowly stroking his long beard in thought. And facing away from them was the bald head of Varys the eunuch.

"I won't do it!" boomed a voice out of sight but not for long.

The large bulk of their older brother came into view. Robert was a tall and strong man and now looked like a conquering king of old with his new crown and fine dress.

"We have no choice," Lord Arryn responded with a frown, "The Martells will not forgive the death of four of their own so kindly. Prince Lewyn we could write off as a war casualty but the Princess and her children..."

Robert seemed to grow red before growling, "The children were dragonspawn. They had to die."

Pycelle bobbed his head along in agreement while Varys showed no hint of emotion. Lord Jon just raised up his hands in a placating motion, "It is agreed that little Prince Aegon could have become a threat to your power. But I had means of ensuring his survival by at least sending him to the Wall to be with his great-great uncle Aemon. Rhaenys would be married to your and Cersei's son to obtain backing from Targaryen loyalists and Princess Elia would be returned to Dorne."

Varys 'tsked' and shook his head, "A pity that they ran afoul of Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch."

"Don't be so keen to spreading tales, spider," Pycelle rasped from under his beard, "Everyone knows the princess and her children were killed in the confusion."

Lord Arryn pulled the discussion back, "Regardless, the Martells will want favors if they cannot have retribution. We send them the bones of Prince Lewyn and Princess Elia but nothing else, they may see that as taunting. We need to ensure that the Seven Kingdoms stay united."

Robert shook his head, "He's just a lad... he's brother..."

"What are they talking about?" Renly whispered.

Lyonel just shrugged. They had mentioned a brother. Stannis? No. No one would ever call Stannis a lad. It must have been either him or Renly.

Lord Arryn continued, "He will be safe in Sunspear. We will send some stormlander knights to act as his guards. Doran is not like to take his anger out on a child."

"It's Oberyn I'm worried about," Robert just growled.

"Doran has him on a tight leash," Jon responded.

Silence filled the room. It's heaviness was felt even in the cool tunnel. Not a sound was made.

"Very well," Robert sighed, "Lyonel will got to Sunspear."

* * *

Sure enough, the next morning, Lord Arryn and Lyonel boarded the galleass _Swiftwing_ bound for the Dornish coasts. Renly had cried and so had Lyonel. But the two had been wrenched apart, Robert holding back Renly while Lord Jon lead Lyonel to the ship.

And so, Lyonel adamantly decided that he did not like Lord Arryn, and decided scowling at the old man was better than smiling at him.

"You're cross with me," Lord Arryn said, not looking up.

Lyonel was caught off guard. They had not spoken since King's Landing and if he was honest, he was not inclined to. So he said nothing.

Lord Jon looked up, his old brown eyes staring into Lyonel's stormy blues until he sighed, "You are angry because I separated you from Renly, aren't you?"

"Yes," Lyonel bit back.

The ship gave another sway and Lord Arryn quickly moved his hand to stop an ink bottle from shattering on the floor. As the old man held it he seemed to get an idea, "But do you know why we are bringing you to Dorne?"

Lyonel was silent for a moment before shaking his head.

Lord Arryn just gave a small smile, "Imagine this ink pot, is Westeros. It is a fragile thing that is more easily broken than you might think. Now, the war we just had is like that wave. It tipped things so that, if we are not fast enough, Westeros as we know it might shatter. And you are the hand that stops it. You are the hero."

"But I don't want to be the hero. I want to be with Renly and our friends," Lyonel mumbled with downcast eyes.

The boy heard the scraping of Lord Arryn's chair and the soft thud of his footsteps before he felt the old man's hand on his chin, raising his head to look at him.

"We all most do things we don't wish to do," the elderly lord spoke softly, "Often times, we think it might be better to just do what we wish instead of what is required. But that can only lead to calamity. Do you think Robert wanted to be king?"

Lyonel gave a soft nod before Lord Jon shook his head, "Your brother wants that crown no more than you want to go to Dorne. He wanted Lyanna Stark. He wanted revenge on Rhaegar Targaryen. He got both, but each at a cost. He only received Lyanna's corpse and he had to take Rhaegar's crown. So you must also deal with such consequences. But know that even if you are in Dorne, you will not be forgotten. Do you understand."

The boy nodded. He supposed he did understand. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

Lord Arryn just gave a smile and pulled the boy up from the seat, "Now, let us go out on deck. These old bones need some fresh air. And I perhaps we may find out what is for dinner."

* * *

"Right then. Left! Right! Parry! Right! Block! Left! Dodge! Parry! Right!"

Lyonel did his best to follow the instructions but a sudden wave caused him to lose his footing and sent him crashing to the deck.

"Seven hells, these waves!" he cursed out. A disapproving grunt caused him to raise his head. A frowning Ser Bonifer was looking down at him, looking down at him.

"Young master," the knight spoke sternly, "You must always be sure of your surroundings when you fight. If your footing had been steady, that wave would never have rocked you so. And I feel you do not need me to lecture you on blasphemous curses as you know full well how those are viewed in the eyes of the Seven."

Ser Aemon just laughed as he spat over the side of the ship, "Ah, give my cousin a rest, Hasty. The lad's been working at it all morning."

"Indeed!" chimed in Ser Willick, who was lying back on a pile of rope fanning himself, "I say we all rest. My has it gotten hot..."

"It must be from the climate," Ser Bonifer responded stiffly, "Seeing as you have not moved a muscle since practice began."

"How dare you! I've simply been watching his footwork so I can help him later!"

Lyonel was amused by his three knights, especially when they argued. He swore he never saw more of a comical assortment of chivalry. Ser Bonifer Hasty was a regal, rigid man who reminded Lyonel too much of Stannis, and who possessed an almost fanatical devotion to the Seven. Lyonel's cousin on his mother's side, Ser Aemon Estermont, was quite the opposite. He was large, crude, and antagonistic. Meanwhile, Ser Willick Kensington was as thin as a bean pole and as lazy as an old hound dog.

Ser Aemon had volunteered to accompany him as he was family. ("And for those Dornish girls," he had whispered later to Lyonel.) Ser Bonifer had volunteered out of a sense of duty and to keep Lyonel on the straight and holy path of the Seven. Mostly to counter any suggestions made by Ser Aemon. And Ser Willick had volunteered in an obvious stunt to increase his family's repute, though he did little to earn it.

While Willick and Bonifer began debating on whether footwork needed to be taught before or after, Ser Aemon clapped his big hand on Lyonel's shoulder, "Ah, don't you worry lad. Not everything comes down to how well you wield your sword. But I doubt you could learn anything from these two anyway."

Lyonel giggled as the two knights were now in a shouting match with each other. He would be worried that it would come to blows if he hadn't known Ser Bonifer was far too disciplined and Ser Willick was a base coward.

However, the row was broken up by the soft voice of the Lord of the Eyrie, "At rest, you two. Your bickering is hardly teaching young Lyonel what he needs to know."

"Of course, Lord Arryn," Ser Bonifer nodded with respect while Ser Willick merely scratched his large nose and mumbled something about "working just as hard".

The old man stepped next to Lyonel and gave him a kind pat on the back, "I saw your movements though. The wave might have pushed you back but you were able to hold your own."

Lyonel blushed but smiled back, "I'm not quite one for combat... Robert and Stannis are much better."

"Too true," Lord Jon smiled back, "Perhaps, like me, you prefer diplomacy?"

Ser Aemon gave a short laugh, "I'd agree. Seems all Lyonel here can do is talk half the time."

That brought a chuckle from the old Lord Hand and caused Lyonel to give the large man a small punch to the arm.

"Land ho!" came the cry from up above. Everyone turned to see the dry land of Dorne rise from beyond the horizon. Unlike the other lands Lyonel had seen, instead of green a yellow gold color appeared from behind the blue curtains of the waters.

And as soon as the sands appeared, Lyonel could only feel a pit in his stomach.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated and each are read.


End file.
